Sharing an Orange | Teen Ink

Sharing an Orange

June 19, 2022
By hanshopee GOLD, San Diego, California
hanshopee GOLD, San Diego, California
14 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I grab the orange from the counter, tossing it from my left hand to the right. The small tangerine is soft and cold, giving just a bit when I squeeze it. I look up to the television as a random sitcom plays, then glance down at her. The light filtering through the window panes hits her golden hair, her braid tucked to the side. “Hey, wanna share this orange?” I offer, and she turns to face me.

“You know it,” she says with a smile. I lean into the couch while she stays turned to face me. “Well, are you going to sit down, or what?” She asks. At this, I walk around the tan couch, running my hand along the upholstery. I sit down next to her, our knees touching. I lean towards the coffee table as she watches me paw at the orange. I dig my thumbnail into the orange and begin peeling it. I glance back at her, meeting her eyes, and I can’t help but let a smile creep onto my face. I turn back to the work, letting my hair fall in front of my eyes to cover my blushing. I work the peel off in chunks, slowly progressing.

“Take your time, will ya?” She jokes. A light chuckle escapes my lips as I continue peeling, placing the peel on the coffee table, peeling, repeat. Finally, one large section of peel is left on the orange. I peel it off in one big chunk and toss it on the table. I then run my pointer finger along the meeting of two slices, applying pressure. The tangerine splits evenly and I hold one half in each hand. Realizing I can only have one half in my hand at a time to break the halves, I place one half in my lap as she watches on in silence.

It is not a painful silence, but a peaceful one. We feel so comfortable in each others’ company that we don’t feel the need to fill the silence. All she does is watch on as I peel one slice away from the rest and put it in her hands. 

“Thanks,” She says softly. She puts it into her mouth and I can see exactly how it tastes in her mouth. It’s sweet and juicy and perfect. I peel a slice for me and put it into my mouth as she says, “They are so good, super juicy.” She’s right. 

 As the light hits her golden hair, I think to myself, “Wow, this is incredible.” We’re just sitting on the couch, sharing an orange, and yet everything feels perfect.


The author's comments:

Hope Hansen is a 17 year old student from Southern California. The goal of this piece is to transport the reader into this romance with this perfect girl. So, let this put you in your feels and interpret it how you'd like.


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